Eternal Eclipse
by TaleBearer
Summary: Sequel to Eternal Evil. Julia discovers the real nature of Miss Dumont's purpose in Cairo and tries desperately to make Ardeth Bey believe her in time.


**ETERNAL ECLIPSE**

**by**

**TaleBearer**

On the day Ardeth Bey was scheduled to ride out with Miss Dumont's expedition, Julia dressed with particular care. She chose a spotless white blouse and skirt in royal blue. She combed out her hair and braided it, then wound it up into a bun and skewered it with the necessary number of hairpins. As a final touch, she added a brooch her father had given her. The face on the cameo held such a look of quiet serenity. Julia hoped she could imitate it. She had little hope of seeing Ardeth himself today. Even so, she felt she should make the proper preparations for seeing her Med-Jai husband off on a mission of duty, just as other wives of Med-Jai had done so for three thousand years.

When Julia arrived at the museum, she took her seat behind her desk and sorted through the papers that filled her in tray. More exhibit work, more cataloguing, more mail for Mr. Kufti of all shapes and sizes. Julia made a mental note to stop by the university later in the afternoon and see what lecture series were being held. Knowing Ardeth would be away for at least three weeks would leave her free to concentrate on her studies and make more progress on her thesis. It would be important to keep herself occupied.

Mr. Kufti's door opened. Two large men in dark suits with stony faces emerged. Then Miss Dumont stepped out, laughing her cultured laugh.

"Oh, Mr. Kufti, how droll of you!"

Today Miss Dumont wore silk with a complicated pattern of blue, green, black, and gold. The resemblance to a peacock did not escape Julia. Miss Dumont's jewelry was a seemingly random yet artistic grouping of necklaces, single strands of malachite, lapis, and onyx. She caught sight of Julia and her triumphant smile returned.

"Good morning, Miss Lawrence."

"Good morning, Miss Dumont." Julia forced herself to rise. "The weather reports are favorable for the next few days. I trust you'll have a comfortable ride out to the dig site."

Miss Dumont's eyes narrowed. "How kind of you to say so."

Mr. Kufti stepped out beside Miss Dumont. "Ah, Miss Lawrence. Good morning. I wonder if you would be kind enough to give us the benefit of your experience in the field."

Coming from Mr. Kufti, that question could mean almost anything. Julia answered him with a cautious nod.

"Miss Dumont is not familiar with the type of clothing best suited to the desert conditions. Perhaps you might take her to the bazaar and show her where to get the things she'll need."

Julia kept her smile fixed firmly in place. Surely she hadn't heard right. Was Mr. Kufti actually suggesting she take Miss Dumont shopping? Apparently he was!

"Miss Lawrence?"

Julia took herself in hand. If Miss Dumont couldn't behave herself, there was always the remote possibility that they might encounter slave traders in the bazaar. Julia's Med-Jai bodyguards would allow no harm to come to her, but Miss Dumont and her pair of hooligans were on their own.

"Why, certainly, Mr. Kufti. I think I'll need rather more than my lunch hour--"

"Take all the time you need. The expedition won't depart until ten o'clock this evening."

Did he expect Julia to keep Miss Dumont amused for that entire time? It was time to drawn the line, but that could not be accomplished right in front of Miss Dumont. "Mr. Kufti, if I'm going to the bazaar, you might give me that list of items the museum needs."

"The list?" Mr. Kufti looked blank. "Ah yes, that list. What a good idea, Miss Lawrence." He turned to Miss Dumont. "Would you excuse us? It would be most helpful if Miss Lawrence could pick up a few things."

"Certainly."

"We won't be a moment." Mr. Kufti gestured Julia ahead of him into his office then closed the door.

Julia rounded on him, all serenity gone. She spoke in a furious whisper. "So now I'm to take Her Ladyship shopping? What next? Will I be pressing her gowns? Fetching her morning tea?"

Mr. Kufti had the grace to look embarrassed. "Please, Miss Lawrence, hear me out. This was not the piece of skullduggery you imagine."

He eased his office door open a tiny bit, satisfied himself that no one was eavesdropping, then closed it and continued.

"Ardeth Bey is occupied with preparations for the expedition. The other Med-Jai are spread rather thin at the moment. None of us can keep an eye on Miss Dumont without being spotted. You are the perfect person to follow her around and see whether or not she gets up to any mischief."

To be included in Med-Jai business was flattering, but to trudge around the Cairo bazaar in the heat of the afternoon enduring Miss Dumont's catty little jibes would be nothing short of unbearable. "Mr. Kufti, for love of that man we both know, please don't ask me to do this."

"Is this the woman who shot a spinning dagger out of the air? Is this the woman who took command of the very forces that were ready to dissect her for their unholy purposes?" Mr. Kufti took hold of Julia's left wrist and held her hand up between them. "Is this the woman who wears the ring meant only for the love of a certain man's life?"

She had done all of those things, all of them for love of Ardeth Bey. Julia squared her shoulders. She was, after all, a daughter of the British Empire. With the likes of Miss Dumont on the loose, someone had to set a better example.

"Of course, Mr. Kufti. I'm sorry. I was being foolish."

"Not at all." He patted her hand. "There are times to retreat, but there are other times when one must stand firm and show the enemy no fear."

Julia nodded. Now and then she forgot who Mr. Kufti really was underneath his workday disguise.

"Play the role of domestic attendant," Mr. Kufti said. "Make note of anyone Miss Dumont speaks to, where she wants to go, what she chooses to purchase. When she's had enough and wants to return to her hotel, bid her good day and go home."

"Very well. I'll stick it as long as I can."

"I do realize this is asking rather a lot of you, Miss Lawrence. In return, let me offer you this. If you like, I shall tell your guards to bring you to the expedition's point of departure so you will have an opportunity to see Ardeth Bey off."

To be granted her wish, and by such an unlikely fairy godmother as Mr. Kufti. . . . Julia smiled. "That's very good of you, Mr. Kufti. I would very much like to see Ardeth before he leaves."

"So you shall. Now, if that's everything--"

"The list, Mr. Kufti?"

"Oh yes. Of course."

Mr. Kufti took a sheet of writing paper out of his desk and scribbled a list of items on it, then handed it to Julia. She looked it over. Exhibit props, knickknacks, and other miscellany. They would give credibility to her presence as Miss Dumont's guide.

"Something of a treasure hunt, this. What shall I do for money?"

Mr. Kufti opened another desk drawer and counted out a pile of British pounds and another of Egyptian piastres. He folded the bills together and handed them to her.

"That should see you through."

Julia nodded. The amount he'd given her would more than cover the items on the list. In fact, while she was in the bazaar she should take that opportunity to make a few purchases of her own.

#

Four hours later, Julia reminded herself for the hundredth time that having been chosen to undertake this task was an honor. It was a sign of the respect and confidence Mr. Kufti felt for her. More importantly, she was taking one more burden off Ardeth Bey's shoulders. Even so, Mr. Kufti was still perilously close to having his innards removed prematurely then buried in a variety of cheap jelly jars.

They strolled through the Cairo bazaar, trailed by Miss Dumont's two silent bodyguards who were sweating under the burden of Miss Dumont's many purchases. The cries of the merchants, the braying of donkeys, the shouts of the children and the constant honking and clatter of traffic made ordinary conversation all but impossible. The heat, the flies, and the overwhelming smells of hot leather and camel dung made breathing a hard enough task. Julia had no idea how the Muslim women veiled head to foot in black chadar could stand such attire. So far Julia had seen no sign of "mischief," other than Miss Dumont's extremely tiresome wit. At least this farcical outing allowed Julia to assemble those items she'd need if a sudden departure to the desert became necessary. Seeing to it Miss Dumont acquired the basic food, water, ammunition, and medical supplies meant she could do the same. While Miss Dumont lingered in the shade of an awning, finishing her dish of sherbet, Julia wandered back around the corner to a display of hunting knives. She picked up one of medium length and hefted it.

"Very fine, very fine," said the merchant behind the tray, a slender, dark man whose hands showed the scars of his work.

"How much for two?"

Julia had mastered enough basic Arabic to haggle with some degree of success. That generally amused the merchants she bargained with. This time, though, the merchant looked her over with an almost fearful expression.

"British lady, yes? From University?"

"Why, yes. Yes I am."

She picked up another knife in her left hand. The sunlight caught her silver ring and made it flash. The merchant glanced at the ring, muttered something, and started wrapping up both knives for her, babbling in a steady stream of much happier Arabic.

"Wait," she said. "We haven't agreed on a price."

"A gift," the merchant said. "My gift to you. Allah akbar."

"Surely I should pay you something?"

"Please, for you, British lady." He said something else, bowing and ducking back inside his little kiosk. Before his voice faded completely, Julia thought she heard the words "Med-Jai."

"How very odd." Julia tucked the knives into her growing bundle of supplies and retraced her steps to Miss Dumont.

"Miss Lawrence?" Miss Dumont gave her that amused, tolerant look that Julia had come to despise. "There you are! I was beginning to wonder--"

"Are you sure it's wise to burden your escorts with packages?" Julia said. "Surely they'd need their hands free should any danger arise."

"Their main purpose lies in being 'visible deterrents.'" Miss Dumont smiled. "Besides, I hardly think some grubby slave trader would dare rush up to me here in broad daylight and carry me off to the harem of some sultan." She gave Julia a sideways glance. "Or would you consider that something of an adventure?"

"I suppose it depends on the sultan."

That brought a laugh from Miss Dumont's glossy garnet lips. "I must say, if the sultan looked anything like Ardeth Bey, I might find such a life quite entertaining."

Julia was ready for that taunt. "Only if you were a favorite. Otherwise, you'd be lucky to see him one night out of a hundred."

"Oh, I would be." Miss Dumont smiled her smug little smile. "These Med-Jai, they take wives, don't they?"

"As many as four."

"Four?"

Julia nodded. "Islamic law allows polygamy."

She watched Miss Dumont digest that bit of information, knowing full well what the next question would be.

"Is Ardeth Bey married?"

"At his age, I would think so. The Med-Jai lead a dangerous life. The sooner they marry, the sooner they have sons. When those sons grow up, they are trained to replace the warriors killed in the line of duty."

"But you aren't certain?"

Julia shrugged. "I suppose Mr. Kufti might know."

"Aren't you even the slightest bit curious?"

"Not really. Besides, I hardly think he'd have any interest in an Englishwoman."

"Oh nonsense. These Arabs covet fair-skinned women." Miss Dumont looked Julia up and down. "However, Arabic men do prefer their women to be considerably more ornamental."

Julia couldn't decide what infuriated her more, the way Miss Dumont relegated her to a lesser order of being, or the pity in her voice as she did so.

"It's a moot point, don't you think?" Julia said. "Proper English ladies don't have much use for primitive Arab nomads."

"Oh, I don't know." Miss Dumont stopped by a stall selling hammered gold bracelets. She chose one and studied it, inside and out. She tried it on her wrist, admiring the way it gleamed in the sunlight. "I could think of one or two uses for Ardeth Bey."

"Miss Dumont!" Julia's shock was perfectly genuine. "It's one thing to acquire the proper items of clothing and supplies. Perhaps we should discuss proper social etiquette on an expedition of this sort."

"'Etiquette'? Oh please, Miss Lawrence. I hardly think I need any kind of lecture on the proper way to behave among desert tribesmen."

"There is considerably more to the Med-Jai than just horses, tents, and scimitars. The Med-Jai are descendents of Pharaoh's Royal Guard, a tradition they've maintained over the last three thousand years."

Miss Dumont gave Julia a long, measuring glance. "You seem to know quite a bit about the Med-Jai."

"My thesis concerns the religious significance of the motifs found in Tuareg jewelry. In the course of that I've learned a few things about the Med-Jai."

"Fascinating." Miss Dumont's slight smirk robbed the word of any flattery.

"Thank you. While the Med-Jai have had enough contact with Europeans to know we follow different religious and social customs, they still expect foreigners to behave with the proper amount of respect for local tradition. That tradition encompasses both Islamic law and the practices of the native population."

"Please, Miss Lawrence. We aren't at Oxford. Could you put that in terms a little less abstract?"

"With pleasure." Julia smiled, anticipating Miss Dumont's dismay. "Dress modestly. Say as little as possible. Keep back behind the men. Don't make a fuss. Be prepared to lend a hand wherever it's needed."

Miss Dumont stopped short and stared at her. "You can't be serious. I'm a British subject, not the fourth wife of some petty caliph who lives out back of the Lost Oasis."

"Such an attitude of condescension will win you no friends."

"I'm in Egypt to recover my grandfather's artifacts, not to befriend the local camel herders. These Arabs had best treat me with respect if they know what's good for them."

Julia sighed. "My dear Miss Dumont, the Med-Jai are a fierce and proud people, with a long and honorable history that makes them worthy of considerable respect. Speaking as one Englishwoman to another, let me beg you not to make a bad impression on them. You'll be making life so much more difficult for those of us who follow after you."

Again Miss Dumont regarded her with that speculative look. "These Med-Jai seem to mean a great deal to you, Miss Lawrence. Why is that, I wonder?"

"I'm a cultural anthropologist."

"There must be more to it than that. Is it the Med-Jai in general, Miss Lawrence? Or one of them in particular?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, I think you do. I've seen the way you look at Ardeth Bey. He has a certain. . .savage charisma."

Miss Dumont deliberately lingered over those last two words. Julia kept an iron grip on her self-control. No matter how much she longed to tie Miss Dumont to a pole where all the camels in Cairo could spit at her, such a reaction would give the game away.

"Really, Miss Dumont, you're letting your imagination run away with you."

"Can you honestly tell me you've never let your imagination run away with you, especially on the subject of Ardeth Bey and his masculine charms?"

Julia drew herself up stiffly. "This is a most improper subject for conversation."

Miss Dumont laughed. "Oh, my dear Miss Lawrence, you are as transparent as a pane of glass." She patted Julia on the shoulder. "Don't worry, my dear. I'll keep an eye on Ardeth Bey for you while he and I are off alone together in that vast, lonely desert."

Julia's aloof expression sharpened to an icy glare. Miss Dumont took one step back, then another, bumping into her bodyguards.

"Be careful, Miss Dumont," Julia said, her voice very quiet. "The women of the Med-Jai can be every bit as fierce as the men. Should you offend them with your unseemly interest in Ardeth Bey, you can be sure they will make you pay for it. Your wealth and breeding will do you no good at all if they decide to stake you out for the scorpions."

"Well, really, Miss Lawrence--"

"At this point we have acquired all of the necessities. Anything further is mere self-indulgence." Julia stepped back and made her an ironic little bow. "Good day to you, Miss Dumont."

With that she turned on her heel and walked away.

"Miss Lawrence!" Miss Dumont called after her. "Miss Lawrence! You can't mean to make your way home unescorted, can you?"

Julia smiled. She was never unescorted. Turning her head to the side, she spied a flash of black down one alley. Kamal or Ahmed or Jaleel or Fakhar was pacing her, keeping her in sight. That would make what she had to do next rather difficult, but not impossible. How fortunate this was Wednesday.

She kept walking, doing nothing unusual, simply leading her guardians back home again. Two Med-Jai always followed her while the other two checked her flat for any unexpected guests. That gave her perhaps two minutes when the first pair had gone ahead and the second had yet to catch up.

When Julia reached her building, she hurried up the steps. A glance back showed her no sign of black cloth anywhere, not even any Muslim women in chadar. The front entryway had a stairwell at the back that led down to the alley where the waste bins were kept. She made a quick dash to the far stairwell. The filth and the stench surrounding the waste bins made an almost tangible miasma. Julia had to poke around a bit before she found a spot dry enough for her purpose. A large crate had been overturned. Some of its boards were loose. Julia stuffed her bag of supplies inside, wedged the boards back into place, then said a short prayer hoping none of Cairo's beggars called this crate home.

#

As Julia reached into her purse for her keys, Jaleel and Fakhar stepped out of the shadows near her doorway. She opened the door and let them go ahead of her. Ahmed and Kamal stayed outside, watching her back. A familiar voice rang out from within her flat, asking questions in harsh Arabic.

"Ardeth?" Scarcely believing her ears, Julia hurried into the living room.

"Julia!" Ardeth Bey stood there in full Med-Jai attire, with even a rifle slung across his back. He crossed the room to her in four hasty strides, caught her up in his arms and kissed her hair. "What is this I hear about you leading Miss Dumont through the bazaar? How did she force you to do such a thing?"

The sight of Ardeth Bey looking so agitated, so fiercely protective on her behalf made Julia's heart soar. Laughing, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tight.

"Mr. Kufti had the bad taste to make me Miss Dumont's personal assistant for the day. I had very little to say about it."

He set her on her feet and looked her over. "You seem in very good spirits."

"I didn't expect to see you today." She hugged him tighter, arms around his waist, delighting in the feel of his lean, muscled torso. "Mr. Kufti had me spying on Her Ladyship. Keeping track of who she spoke to, what she bought, where she wanted to go, that sort of thing."

"So that was his reason. Did you learn anything of value?"

"I'm not sure. We bought all the appropriate clothing and a few personal items."

"Nothing else?"

"She did try on a gold bracelet."

"And? Did she buy it?"

Julia frowned, thinking. "You know, I don't recall what happened to the bracelet. We'd had a disagreement, and I was doing my best to change the subject."

"What was the disagreement?"

Julia looked away. "That's not important."

"Perhaps it is. Tell me, Julia."

"She was making more of those offensive remarks."

"About?"

Julia frowned. "About you."

Ardeth Bey touched her cheek and made her look at him. He saw her fatigue, her strained patience, and the blood in her eye that came from minding her manners instead of giving Miss Dumont the setting down she deserved.

"That woman." He shook his head. "Perhaps Miss Dumont should be made aware of your skills with a pistol."

"Don't tempt me. I'd be more than happy to give her a demonstration."

"Can you recall if she still had the bracelet on when you parted company?"

Julia shut her eyes and concentrated. Miss Dumont had called after her, one hand flung up as if to summon her back. Gold flashed on her wrist, turned reddish by the fading sun.

"Yes. She still had it on."

"Even though you had moved on from the dealer's stall?"

"Yes, yes she did! What could that mean?"

"If her bodyguards did not pay for the bracelet, then some arrangement must have been made ahead of time. Can you tell me what the bracelet looked like?"

Julia shrugged. "Hammered gold, no particular detail. A plain cuff."

"And on the inside?"

"There might have been something. She did look there as well."

"How many bracelets did she examine?"

"Only that one. What could it mean?"

Ardeth Bey frowned. "Perhaps nothing. Then again, it would be perfectly unremarkable for a woman of Miss Dumont's wealth to visit the goldsmiths. Some message might have waited for her there."

"What do you think she's up to?"

"It is too early to know." His frown deepened. He began to pace. "Mr. Kufti assures me that the documents she presented to us are genuine. If they did not come into her hands by way of inheritance, then she must have purchased them from a reliable source."

"Or had them stolen."

Ardeth Bey nodded. "That is also possible."

"Wretched woman," Julia muttered. "Her Ladyship is a menace to Anglo-Egyptian relations. I can only hope she doesn't set our diplomats back several hundred years."

Ardeth came back to Julia and took her in his arms, smiling down at her. "There are those of us who have witnessed all that is best in the heart of an Englishwoman. Trust me, sheytana. We know the difference."

Julia looked up at him, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes. It took a moment to find her voice. "Thank you, Ardeth. That must be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."

"Only the truth." He stroked her hair. "Tell me, did Mr. Kufti have any other plans for you?"

"He said he'd have my guards bring me to him tonight, and so I'd be able to say goodbye to you before the expedition departs. I thought that was rather nice of him, letting me come along to see you off."

Ardeth Bey shook his head. "I am sure he means well, but that is not possible."

"Why not?"

Ardeth Bey sat Julia down on the couch, then knelt beside her and took her face in his hands. "We cannot let anyone see us together too often, my love. Your presence there tonight would be too prominent, too meaningful."

Julia's pleasure at being allowed one more wifely duty faded before that unavoidable truth. "You're right, of course. I hadn't thought of it that way." She forced herself to brighten. "Well! How lovely of you to stop by and see that I'm all right."

"How could I leave Cairo without bidding my wife a proper goodbye?"

Julia's heart turned over. To hear him call her his wife here, where her guards might hear him. . . . There were no words fine enough to express the depth of her love for Ardeth Bey, love that filled her heart and overflowed. As he had done once before, he kissed the tears from her cheeks. Ardeth stood up and held out both hands to her.

"Come, my love," he murmured. "I should sleep awhile before the journey. It will be a very long night."

Julia clasped those long, slender, strong fingers in her own. She loved his hands, roughened from wielding his scimitar and holding his horse's reins, yet infinitely gentle in their touch. He drew her up onto her feet, then let her walk ahead of him into the bedroom. If sleep was all Ardeth wanted, that was fine with Julia. That he had chosen to sleep here, in her arms, was another sign of his profound love and trust. Julia looked through her bureau drawers, seeking the right nightdress. Ardeth Bey's arms slid around her waist from behind.

"You need wear nothing but the glory of your hair, my love. In that you look finer than any ordinary cloth."

Julia turned within his embrace to find him already barefoot and stripped to the waist. She drank in the sight of him. The hard muscles of his chest and belly bronzed by the sun. His long black curls brushing his broad shoulders. Those full lips framing his bright smile. Those entrancing eyes, now aflame with a passion that ignited her own.

"But Ardeth," she teased. "You need your sleep."

"And sleep I shall. Nothing helps me sleep better than the time I spend in your arms."

One by one he freed her garments and let them fall. His deft fingers sought out every last hairpin, freeing her braid and loosening the plaits until the long waves of her chestnut hair tumbled down to her waist.

"My sheytana." Ardeth combed his fingers through her hair again and again, spreading it out in a shining veil across her naked shoulders. "My body leaves Cairo, but my heart remains with you."

#

Three nights later, Julia lay in bed, thinking of Ardeth Bey and the joy he brought to her entire being. She smiled, recalling the lazy grace of her Med-Jai warrior as he lay stretched on his side, cuddling her close in the warm curve of his body. She clung to the memory of that warmth, drawing strength from it as she wondered how close the expedition had come to the dig site. In her dreams she'd been traveling the expedition's route as if she saw it through Ardeth Bey's own eyes. How sweet to think they were together even in their dreams. The days would pass, the matter of the Dumont expedition would be settled, and Ardeth Bey would return to her, just as he always did.

At some point sleep claimed Julia and her thoughts blurred into dreams. A black horse carried her across the moonlit desert, its hooves moving so fast they might have been flying. Thousands of stars glittered overhead. The night air was warm and soft and tasted of good wine. Julia knew her destination. There could be only one thing drawing her into the midnight depths of the Sahara. Ardeth Bey waited for her there, waited for her to join him in his domain, the land where his word was law.

"Julia!"

Her name rang out across the starry darkness. Julia gave the stallion its head, clinging to its silky mane as it hurtled along between the dunes. Somewhere ahead, Julia spied the light of a campfire. Standing there, silhouetted against the flames, was Ardeth Bey.

"Julia!"

He cried out her name again in a voice of longing, a voice of hunger, a voice of wretched loneliness.

"Ardeth!" she cried. "Ardeth Bey! Here I am! I'm coming!"

At last the black horse reached the outer edge of the ring of firelight. Ardeth stood there, head down, shoulders slumped, the picture of misery. He threw his head back and shouted at the stars.

"Sheytana! Night after night I dream of you. Why do you not answer me?"

Julia swung down from the back of the stallion and ran toward him. "Ardeth! Here I am! This is the first time I've heard you!"

Only a few yards of sand separated Julia from Ardeth. The sand suddenly boiled upward. Shapes emerged, as big as dogs, black and shiny. The starlight showed Julia six enormous scorpions, stingers poised to do their worst. Julia stumbled backward, too terrified to scream. The scorpions closed ranks against her, keeping between her and Ardeth Bey no matter how she tried to move around them.

"Ardeth...."

That voice! Her own voice, called out from the shadows beyond the firelight. Julia didn't dare look away from the scorpions.

"Ardeth Bey. My love. My only one...."

"Julia?" Ardeth Bey turned toward the voice. "Come into the light, my love. Let me see you!"

A figure drifted into view at the very edge of the ring of firelight. It kept to the shadows, teasing the eye with a glimpse here and there.

"Ardeth Bey. Come to me."

The drifting presence took shape, forming into a creature of smoke and shadow. The face bore a vague resemblance to Julia. A long streak of darkness shot with highlights of red and gold made an eerie double for her hair. That perfect imitation of Julia's voice called to him again.

"Ardeth Bey. Join me, my love. Follow me to the oasis. Make love to me in the shallows where only your kisses can satisfy the endless hunger of my love."

The shadow-figure seemed to beckon, to sway backward into the darkness beyond the fire, coaxing Ardeth Bey along.

"No!" Julia screamed. "Ardeth! That's not me!"

If he could hear her, he gave no sign. The scorpions chittered and snapped their front claws at Julia, backing her up a few steps.

"This is a dream," she said. "You aren't real!"

She dashed back a few feet, then took off at a dead run and sprang up into the air as high as her legs could push her. She hit the sand on the far side of the fire and rolled. The scorpions chittered as they scuttled after her.

"Ardeth!" Julia lunged forward to catch his wrist in both hands. "Ardeth, she's a fake. I'm the real Julia! Ardeth, listen to me!"

The scorpions were closing in. Clinging to Ardeth with her left hand, Julia thrust out her right in a familiar gesture born of pure panic. The shape of her pistol shimmered into being. She fired one round after another, splattering the scorpions across the sand. Some bits flew into the campfire, burning with a noxious stink.

Julia turned back to find her left hand empty. There was no sign of Ardeth Bey. She spun around, straining to hear anything, a footfall, a harsh breath, anything that would give her a direction. Then she heard it.

Miss Dumont's charming little laugh.

Julia charged toward it, phantom pistol ready in her hand. Around the next dune appeared an oasis lush with date palms and a broad, smooth body of water. Moonlight sparkled on the surface of the water. Julia heard another tinkle of feminine laughter followed by the throatier sound of Ardeth's laugh. There in the shallows they stood, Ardeth Bey and the figure of a woman. Whoever it was, she no longer resembled Julia. Her hair was black, her skin golden, her body painted with strange black designs.

"The Med-Jai is mine!"

"I know who you are," Julia said. "You couldn't steal my body, and there's no way you'll steal Ardeth Bey."

"How will you stop me? Sekhmet no longer protects you."

"Oh, I'll do more than just stop you. I'll give you the thrashing you deserve!"

Julia raised the pistol and took aim, sighting on the golden ornament gleaming in the woman's black hair. The pistol softened and lengthened in her hands. The greasy scales of a thick black snake rasped against her palms as it reared its head back to strike. Julia screamed. Fighting her instincts, she tightened her grip on the snake and brought it down hard across her knee. The viper's spine snapped, leaving it dangling limp in her hands. She flung it aside, then ran down the beach.

"Ardeth! Wake up! You've got to fight her!"

Julia was close enough to make out the woman's features and the details of her scanty attire. Anck-su-Namun, in all her whorish Egyptian glory.

"Stupid little English girl, you lack even the most basic magics. You have no hope of ever taking the Med-Jai back from me!"

"I think I do." Julia reached the waterline. "I shot your scorpions. I broke the back of your snake. There must be something I can do to you!"

Anck-su-Namun laughed. She led Ardeth Bey out of the water. The moonlight revealed them both as naked. Julia couldn't look away. Drops of water glistened on Ardeth Bey's bare shoulders, the long muscles of his thighs. . . . His Med-Jai tattoos spat and fizzled like broken wiring, their sapphire light shining through in thwarted bursts. Julia took that as a hopeful sign. Ardeth was fighting back, however weakly that fight might show itself.

Anck-su-Namun stroked Ardeth Bey's cheek. "When the moon waxes full, my plans will be complete. The blood of the Med-Jai will be my love-gift to open the way for Imhotep's return."

"Never!"

"Oh yes. Ardeth Bey will die, and his line shall die with him. In three generations' time, the Med-Jai will be no more. When the last of Pharaoh's Guard lies buried under the sands, Imhotep shall return." Anck-su-Namun spread her arms wide. "This world shall be ours, and all the secrets of the afterlife. There will be no one to oppose us!"

"You're nothing," Julia snapped. "Just a ghost, a bad dream. Now get away from my husband!"

"Husband?" Anck-su-Namun hissed the word. "No. You lie."

Julia held up her left hand. There, on her ring finger, shone the silver Tuareg ring, its agate stones ablaze with inner light. "I am his and he is mine. You will not take him from me!"

"I already have."

Anck-su-Namun pulled Ardeth Bey's head down to hers. She kissed him, a long, slow, thorough kiss. Ardeth Bey's hands rose to caress her hair. The familiarity of that gesture provided Julia with insight she so desperately needed.

"No, you haven't!" she shouted. "He'd never come to you, you backstabbing murderous bitch! You had to make him think you're me!"

Julia launched herself forward. Her shoulder caught Anck-su-Namun in the belly and knocked her backward into the water. Julia splashed in after her, determined to finish the battle right then and there. The waters of the oasis began to churn and foam, hurling wave after wave at Julia.

"Your time will come." Anck-su-Namun's voice echoed all around Julia. "I will make you beg for death!"

Soaked, blinded, and gasping, Julia struggled through the torrent, searching for Ardeth Bey, screaming his name again and again.

#

Julia's eyes opened. Her hair hung in her face, wet and dripping. She was on her knees in the middle of her bed, her throat raw from screaming. Around her stood all four of her Med-Jai guards. They stared at her as if she'd gone completely mad.

"Miss Julia?" Jaleel spoke up. "Are you awake now?"

Julia pushed her damp hair out of her eyes. She leaned back against the headboard and pulled the sheet up to her shoulders, took a deep breath, then nodded. All four of the Med-Jai relaxed slightly.

"You were screaming, Miss."

Jaleel handed her a cup of water. She sipped at it. She tried to speak, coughed, tried again.

"Ardeth Bey--in danger." Her voice was little more than a harsh rasp. "Must speak--Mr. Kufti!"

"Miss Julia, it is three o'clock in the morning. All of Cairo is asleep."

"He's been--taken captive! Future of--Brotherhood at stake!"

Ahmed rumbled something in Arabic. Jaleel nodded.

"Miss Julia, you have had a bad dream. In the night the djinn bring bad dreams." Jaleel took a step closer to her. "Is there something we can get for you, something to make you feel better?"

Julia nodded. "Hot tea. Please. Lemon--honey--shot of whisky." That would settle her nerves and restore her voice.

"I will go and make it for you, Miss Julia."

Jaleel turned to go into the kitchen. Ahmed caught his arm and said something in Arabic, pointing at the bed. Jaleel nodded.

"Ahmed asks you to stay in bed, please. We are all most worried about you. When we heard you screaming, we thought someone was trying to kill you."

"You were right." Julia reached for her robe where it lay across the foot of the bed. "Make the tea--please. I'll get dressed."

Ahmed shook his head. "Stay here. Ardeth Bey wishes it so."

"Ardeth Bey is in danger!" she cried, forcing her voice out. "I've seen it! Anck-su-Namun spoke to me in my dream, laughing at me, saying she'll kill him to make way for Imhotep's return!"

At the sound of that forbidden name, all the Med-Jai backed away, muttering prayers.

"Jaleel!" Ahmed called. "Imshi!"

Jaleel came running in from the kitchen. He held a lemon in one hand and the bottle of whisky in the other. Julia grabbed the whisky and took a long drink straight from the bottle. The whisky's bracing fire burned its way down her throat, warming her and chasing off a little of her panic.

"Take me to Mr. Kufti," she said, her voice somewhat stronger. "We've got to find Ardeth Bey before the full moon. If we lose him, we lose everything. The Med-Jai will die out."

Jaleel reached out and very carefully took the whisky bottle from Julia's hand. "How do you know these things, Miss Julia? How can you be sure?"

"Dreams. I share his dreams." Julia rubbed at her sore throat, wishing they'd all get out so she could dress. "When Ardeth Bey defeated the priests of Anubis, our souls touched and mingled through the power of Sekhmet and the god who appeared then as well. My spirit is linked with his."

Jaleel looked to Ahmed for guidance. Ahmed stepped forward, looking Julia in the eye. He pointed to the ring on Julia's left hand, then spoke. Jaleel translated.

"Ahmed asks why you wear that ring the way European women wear a ring to show they are married."

Julia stared at the ring, wondering how much to tell them, and how much they already knew. She looked up into Ahmed's face, the lines there carved by sun, wind, and time, his tattoos a lighter shade than Jaleel's.

"You know what this ring means, don't you, Ahmed?"

Ahmed was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded. "Ardeth Bey has made you his wife."

The three younger Med-Jai all glanced at each other, then looked to Ahmed for some sign of how to receive this news.

"That's right," Julia said. "Now will you please take me to Mr. Kufti?"

Ahmed spoke quickly to Jaleel, then hurried out with Kamal right behind him. Jaleel and Fakhar backed toward the door.

"Please get dressed, Miss Julia," Jaleel said. "Ahmed has gone to bring the car around."

#

Twenty minutes later Mr. Kufti answered Jaleel's soft tapping on his front door. Mr. Kufti lived in one of the better sections of Cairo, filled with British military families, old money, and expatriates of all stripes. Jaleel had called ahead, warning Mr. Kufti of their imminent arrival.

"Good evening, Mr. Kufti," Julia said. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

Mr. Kufti stood there in carpet slippers, striped pajama bottoms, a plum-colored smoking jacket, and a white ascot, with a fez perched atop his gray hair. His expression wasn't the most hospitable.

"It is in fact morning, Miss Lawrence. Tell me, did you start drinking before or after this nightmare of yours?"

"I had one drink afterward for medicinal purposes. If you don't believe me, ask Jaleel why I sound like this."

Julia stepped past him into the foyer of his house. Mr. Kufti's furnishings were minimal but exquisite, heavy on the tapestry fabric and dark wood, no doubt culled from years of seeing the finest pass through museum exhibits.

"He told me. Really, Miss Lawrence, I don't know what you think I can do. The expedition is a good four days from Cairo at this point. There's no way to reach them quickly, short of borrowing an airplane."

"If there's a magic carpet to be had, I suggest you get your hands on it. Anck-su-Namun is back, and she has made Ardeth Bey the target of her latest scheme." Julia gave Mr. Kufti the relevant details of her nightmare. "She is vulnerable, somehow. The scorpions and snake prove that."

"They prove nothing. This nightmare is nothing more than your own anxieties over Miss Dumont's unfortunate interest in Ardeth Bey."

To have her rage and terror dismissed as so much catty jealousy made Julia absolutely furious.

"The first progress report will reach us in three days," Mr. Kufti said. "All I am suggesting is that we wait until then."

"And waste that much time doing nothing?" Julia shook her head. "We must ride out as soon as possible, with only the bare necessities and a support team to follow. We've got to get out there and find him before the moon is full!"

Mr. Kufti consulted a calendar on his desk. "That gives us ten days, Miss Lawrence. Surely that's enough time to receive the first progress report and formulate a less hasty plan of action?"

"So now you are willing to go?"

"If the expedition meets with any difficulties, Ardeth Bey has ways of getting word to the people who can provide the help he needs."

"Are you usually one of those people?"

"Quite often, yes."

"Then you will be among the first to hear from him."

"If and only if there is anything to be heard."

Julia clenched both fists in mounting frustration. Her whole body was shaking and she felt light-headed. The strain of the night was taking its toll.

"Mr. Kufti, I beg you. Listen to me. Take what I say seriously. I am not prone to visions and flights of fancy."

"Miss Lawrence--"

"I am not the kind of woman giving to staging great melodramatic fits and telling whatever lies suit her purpose. Believe me when I tell you--"

"Miss Lawrence!" Mr. Kufti gripped her by the shoulders and stared hard into her eyes. "You have seen things and done things that no young woman of your background should ever even hear about, much less experience firsthand." He spoke more quietly. "You are strong, Miss Lawrence, far stronger than we ever expected, but you too are only human."

"What are you saying?"

"Forget Miss Dumont. Forget about matters that concern only the Med-Jai. No good will come of seeing things that are not truly there."

Julia jerked out of his grasp. "I know what I saw in that cave with Mr. Bennett and those priests, and I know very well what I saw when I first laid eyes on Miss Dumont! Even if you refuse to credit my dream, you know that woman is up to something. Her scheme might well tie into Hamunaptura and all its dirty little secrets!"

"That's enough!" Mr. Kufti's tone of command made Julia flinch. "You will do as you are told." He spoke with icy precision. "No matter how much Ardeth Bey loves you, he has given me the authority to see you on the next ship to England if I think that's for the best."

Julia stared at him, shocked and hurt. Mr. Kufti could do exactly that. Worse still, he could see to it she was deported with no hope of return. That thought was terrible enough to make her shaking worsen. Although it sickened her, she said the words she knew Mr. Kufti wanted to hear.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Kufti. Forgive me if I spoke out of turn. Of course you know best about these things."

Mr. Kufti patted Julia on the shoulder. "We all must do our duty, Miss Lawrence. You know I hold you in the highest regard. I merely think the strain of recent events, to say nothing of the sudden change in your domestic arrangements, may have left you a bit at sea."

Julia nodded. "I'm sure there's a great deal in what you say, Mr. Kufti. May I go now?"

Mr. Kufti nodded. "By all means. Go home, have a nice hot bath, then get some sleep."

Julia moved toward the door where Kamal waited for her. As Ahmed moved to follow, Mr. Kufti stopped him and said something to him in Arabic. Ahmed nodded. Julia didn't have to speak Arabic to guess what Mr. Kufti was saying. The Med-Jai were to keep her in Cairo no matter what.

#

Come morning Julia did her best to make herself look human if not entirely presentable. Opting for comfort rather than style, she chose a lightweight, long-sleeved blouse of unbleached linen, a divided skirt in the ever-appropriate khaki, and her good walking shoes. She minimized the strain of the night with a few touches of foundation and rouge. How odd that life in Cairo had made her more reliant on cosmetics than life in England ever had.

The morning post was waiting on the kitchen counter. One of the Med-Jai must have brought it in. On top of the pile was an envelope in rich creamy stock, the engraving exquisite. Julia's name and address were on the front of the envelope. There was no return address, merely a few squiggles that looked like sloppy hieroglyphs. Julia fetched the letter opener from her desk and slit open the envelope.

Inside was a card of the type known as informal. Something bulky attached to the card kept it from slipping out easily. Julia tore the envelope open, then screamed. The card fell from her hand to land on the tile floor. In the center of the card, anchored by what Julia fervently prayed was only red wax, lay a single long curl of black hair. Ardeth Bey's hair.

Jaleel and Fakhar appeared out of nowhere, scimitars in hand. Julia said nothing, merely pointed one shaking hand at the card. Jaleel bent to pick up the card.

"There is a message written here." His eyes widened, then narrowed. Muscles writhed along his clenched jaw. "Miss Julia, shall I tell you what it says?"

Bracing herself, Julia nodded. Jaleel began to read.

"Miss Lawrence,

You seem to have a reputation for wild acts of loyalty and considerable courage. Find Ardeth Bey before the full moon. Free him, defeat me, and he is yours to keep. Fail in this and you will die. Ardeth Bey will die, and the Med-Jai will die with him. Darkness is coming. Compared to its power, the Med-Jai are nothing but a single flame before the deluge."

Yours most sincerely,"

"The signature is a series of hieroglyphs."

"Thank you, Jaleel." Julia held out her hand for the card. She slipped it back into its envelope and tucked both into her skirt pocket. Then she went about the perfectly ordinary motions of making a pot of tea. Jaleel and Fakhar watched her.

"Miss Julia?" Jaleel said. "Do you believe this to be genuine?"

"Yes, Jaleel, I do."

"What will you do now?"

"I will drink my tea, then I will go to the museum. I am, after all, expected."

"And that is all?"

"What more can I do, Jaleel? I am forbidden to leave Cairo. Don't tell me you don't know that."

Julia turned to look the young Med-Jai in the eye. Jaleel was still young enough to show a little of his thoughts. He blushed and looked away. Julia nodded.

"I thought so." Her tone was soft, sorrowful, not the least accusatory. "Mr. Kufti told Ahmed not to let me out of this flat except to go to the museum, the University, or to do my marketing, correct?"

Jaleel nodded. "For your safety, Miss Julia. These people are very bad."

"Yes, Jaleel. I know."

Julia finished her cooling tea, rinsed the cup, and set it in the sink. Then, with equal calm, she went to her bedroom closet, took out the box that held her pistol, made sure every chamber was loaded, then put the pistol into her document case along with all the spare bullets she had on hand. One of the advantages of having Med-Jai for guards was their lack of prejudice about her carrying a pistol. More than once her pistol had been the reason Ardeth Bey was alive to suffer the danger he was in now. Julia stopped by the hallway mirror to tidy her hair.

"Come along, then. Let's go see how Mr. Kufti plans to torment me today."

Her desk was piled with even more paperwork than usual. Julia surveyed it with a cold eye. Someone obviously thought she should be kept busy. As if this scutwork could take her mind off the very real possibility of Ardeth Bey's death. Julia arranged herself as usual behind her desk and got to work. Her guards had vanished. She hoped they had the decency to let her inform Mr. Kufti about the card herself.

The door to Mr. Kufti's office opened. "Miss Lawrence? Are you in?"

"So it would seem, Mr. Kufti."

"Would you step in here for a moment, please?"

"Of course. Shall I bring my pad?"

"No, no, that's not necessary."

Julia rose and moved past Mr. Kufti into his office. She stood waiting, her expression attentive. Mr. Kufti looked her over, his usual avuncular air giving way to an almost military precision.

"Are you all right this morning, Miss Lawrence?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Kufti. What makes you ask?"

"I'm told you had a rather difficult night."

Julia shrugged her shoulders in a dismissive gesture. "Nightmares."

"They must have been rather distressing."

"Quite."

Mr. Kufti came closer, studying Julia. "Is there anything you want to talk about, Miss Lawrence? You're looking awfully peaked."

Julia regarded him with a faint smile. "Why no, Mr. Kufti. I can't imagine what you mean. We all have our duties in this life. I should go make some progress on mine."

Mr. Kufti nodded and turned to see her out. Instead of moving toward the door, Julia stayed right where she was.

"Unless, of course," she said, "there was something you wanted to tell me?"

For a moment Mr. Kufti looked almost guilty. He frowned and turned away, pacing the Persian carpet in a gesture so like Ardeth Bey's it gave Julia a pang.

"I am loath to cause you any more upset, Miss Lawrence, but on the other hand, duty if not simple courtesy demands I make you aware of something."

Julia closed her fingers around the message in her pocket. It couldn't be the worst news she feared. It was too early in the game for that.

"The progress report came in from the expedition just after dawn."

"That much ahead of schedule?" Julia maintained her glacial calm.

"Yes. I'm afraid the news is bad." Mr. Kufti wandered around behind his desk, picked up a carnelian obelisk, put it down again. "Ardeth Bey has disappeared."

"Disappeared? What does that mean?"

"Two nights ago, some time after midnight, Ardeth Bey left his tent, walked out into the desert, and vanished."

Mr. Kufti paused to watch Julia closely, waiting for the outburst he was no doubt anticipating. When she said nothing, Mr. Kufti's anxiety visibly increased. He clenched his hands together behind his back.

"This doesn't necessarily mean any harm has come to him," he said. "Ardeth Bey has many reasons for the things he does."

"You don't believe that, Mr. Kufti." Julia took the message out of her pocket and laid it on Mr. Kufti's desk. "And neither do I."

"What's this?"

"It arrived this morning," she said. "I think you'll find it confirms my fears to the letter."

Mr. Kufti snatched up the envelope and took out the card. His eyes widened in horror when he touched the lock of hair. As he read the message, his face went from its normal tan to a deep brick red to a shade bordering on purple. He threw the card down on his desk.

Julia didn't waste time gloating. "Surely you believe me now. It's not a matter of choice. Someone has to go after Ardeth Bey and free him before that witch uses him as a sacrifice."

"You honestly believe Miss Dumont plans to raise He Who Shall Not Be Named?"

"And offer Ardeth Bey to him on a platter, to torture, maim, and finally kill."

"Miss Lawrence." Mr. Kufti led Julia to the couch and sat her down. "Let me assure you I understand how difficult this must be for you." He went on to speak in his best paternal tones. "You've been working much too hard. I think it's time you went on a nice trip to the seacoast. A brief vacation will do much to restore your nerves."

Julia kept her temper in check. In trying to protect her and keep her out of danger, Mr. Kufti was only carrying out Ardeth Bey's orders.

"Have you ever been married, Mr. Kufti?"

"Once. Long ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't realize--"

"My wife was killed by enemies of the Med-Jai." A look of terrible sorrow crossed Mr. Kufti's face. "She worked here, at the museum, much as you do now. One day when she was on her way home, some men took her away. She would not tell them what they wanted to know, and I could not give them what they demanded."

Tears welled up in Julia's eyes. "Oh my God. Oh, Mr. Kufti, I'm so sorry. How horrible!"

Mr. Kufti nodded. "Yes. It was." He was silent for a long moment. "Listen to me, Miss Lawrence. You know I love Ardeth Bey as the son I never had. He will not betray you, most of all not to a creature he despises as one of his worst enemies."

"I know that. I know he'll fight her to the death. The trouble is, she's not using scimitars and rifles. Aren't all those tattoos supposed to protect him against this kind of thing?"

"Against hostile attacks, oh yes. But based on what you told me about your nightmare, I must conclude that Anck-su-Namun has found a way to get around Ardeth Bey's defenses. She has made him believe she is you."

There was a faint undercurrent of disapproval in Mr. Kufti's voice. Of course. If Ardeth Bey hadn't fallen in love with Julia, he couldn't have been taken hostage this way. How the Med-Jai must despise her for providing their greatest enemies with the perfect weapon to bring down Ardeth Bey. Julia bowed her head, feeling an abyss of grief open up inside her.

"Mr. Kufti, I'm suddenly feeling rather ill. I wonder if you might let me go home for the day. Too little sleep, too much paperwork, and now all this uncertainty about Ardeth Bey. . . ." She wiped one hand across her eyes and regarded Mr. Kufti with a haggard look that was perfectly sincere.

Mr. Kufti nodded. "I think that would be for the best. Stay home, lock your doors, and speak to no one but the Med-Jai you know on sight." He stood, taking Julia by the elbow and helping her to her feet. "I'm sure all this will be sorted out shortly."

Julia gathered up the card and its envelope. Mr. Kufti laid a hand on her wrist.

"Please, Miss Lawrence, let's not be morbid. You don't want to hold on to that."

"It's addressed to me, Mr. Kufti. Therefore it belongs to me." Julia put it back into her skirt pocket. "I will be in all evening, of course. Please ring me if there's any news."

"Certainly. And please, Miss Lawrence, do try to get some rest."

Julia returned to her desk, ears alert for a particular sound. She heard it, the sound of Mr. Kufti speaking Arabic. He was most likely talking to at least one of her Med-Jai guards. Julia picked up her purse and hurried to the ladies' room. Loyal as her guards were, not one of them would ever set foot in there, perhaps not even at gunpoint. She waited just inside the door, eyes shut and ears straining.

"Jaleel! Fakhar!" Ahmed's voice, summoning the younger Med-Jai so he could pass along Mr. Kufti's latest orders. Kamal would be somewhere nearby, most likely on the far side of Ahmed.

Julia slipped out the door and hurried down the long hallway that led to the museum's rear entrance. Her new flat was only three alleys down on the left. Just past the door that opened onto the stairwell, she located the large wooden crate. Julia kicked out the three loosened slats in the crate's side and reached in to close her fingers around the bag holding her supplies. She opened the bag and pulled out a full set of chadar, the head to foot black veiling worn by Muslim women, which allowed only the eyes to be seen. In moments she was veiled head to foot. The Med-Jai would have to be mind readers to find her now.

She made her way along the main thoroughfare to the bazaar. She was careful to keep her eyes down, and to stop herself from shoving the voluminous sleeves of the chadar up her arms. Muslim women maintained an outward appearance of dignified reserve, drawing as little attention to themselves as possible. That suited Julia just fine. All she needed now was a fast horse. If she could buy one then find somewhere to lie low until nightfall, she might have a chance of eluding the Med-Jai completely.

The livestock section of the Cairo bazaar was, if anything, even noisier, smellier, and more crowded than the other areas. Other women were out, usually in small groups of three or five. Julia kept near them, hoping for protective coloring as she made her way closer and closer to the corrals where the horses were kept. She wanted the horse from her dreams, but she knew better than to think she could manage a horse that wild and powerful. Still, it would take more than a plowhorse to get her through the Sahara to wherever Ardeth Bey awaited her.

Maneuvering through the crowds meant suffering an endless series of bumps, pushes, prods, and the occasional burst of hostile Arabic as the owner of a trod-on foot complained loudly and at length. Julia was just reaching the first corral, where a marvelous black Arabian danced, when a large body crashed into her left side. She fell, landing painfully on her bottom.

"Pardon, mademoiselle! Pardonnez-moi!"

A man stood over her, swarthy, hazel-eyed, with full sensuous lips that marked him as a man of appetites. A dusty, faded cotton shirt and pants covered his broad, muscular torso and sinewy legs. He wore the typical Arabian headwrap, but a gold earring gleamed in one earlobe. Two pistols and a wicked-looking dagger hung on his belt. He offered his hand to help her rise. Julia shook her head, getting awkwardly to her feet. Her efforts to keep her grip on her bundle of supplies made the strap of her document case slide off her shoulder. The case hit the hard-packed dirt with a metallic jingling.

The swarthy man beside her give her a hard look. "Munitions de guerre? Je ne le crois pas!"

He bent to grab her document case by the strap. Julia could neither cry out nor take back the document case. Her voice would betray her as British, as would the color of her skin. She watched in silent agony as swarthy the man opened the document case. He glanced inside, brows rising in surprise. A slow, evil smile spread across his face.

"A British pistol," he said in English. "What a strange thing for a Muslim lady to be carrying. Unless she is not a Muslim lady."

"You will hand over my bag, sir," Julia said, "Or I shall start screaming 'thief!' at the top of my voice."

The swarthy man reached in and pulled out the pistol. He snapped open the chamber with a practiced flick of his wrist, confirmed it was loaded, and closed it again just as easily. Then he leveled the pistol at Julia.

"I think, British lady, you will tell me who you really are."

Julia sighed. "Be a good fellow and just give me back my pistol. You really don't want to meet the people who are after me."

Even as she spoke, Julia thought she glimpsed several black-clothed bodies pushing into the corral area, along with the flash of sunlight off the ivory hilts of scimitars. So they'd guessed she'd want a horse. Clever Med-Jai. Keeping her eyes on them, she plunged one hand into her bundle of supplies and scrabbled around. The swarthy man followed her gaze. When he saw the Med-Jai, his eyes narrowed, but his grin got even bigger.

"Ah," the swarthy man said. "Then let me put our acquaintance on a different foot. I am Jacques Routier, and there is nothing I enjoy more than assisting a lady in distress."

Julia's fingers closed on the hilt of one of her hunting knives. She drew it and pressed the point to Monsieur Routier's side just next his heart. "You can assist me by putting my pistol back in the case and handing it over."

Monsieur Routier looked down at the knife, then over at the group of three Med-Jai who were perhaps fifty yards away. For a moment Julia didn't know what to do. Throw herself into the arms of her protectors, who would proceed to lock her up? Or risk even worse trouble with this Frenchman who was probably a mercenary? One Med-Jai looked toward her. The face was familiar. Jaleel! Reflex made her turn away. Monsieur Routier took that chance to grab her wrist and twist it, forcing her hand open. The knife hit the dirt at their feet. He planted one booted foot on it, then pressed the barrel of the pistol into Julia's side.

"I think I have answered my own question, British lady. Come with me. Some old friends are waiting to see you."

The sound of that made Julia suck her breath in sharply. Monsieur Routier cocked the pistol.

"No screams, mademoiselle. I will not kill you, but I will leave you severely indisposed."

"Who are these 'old friends' we seem to have in common?"

"I think you know Le Capitaine, oui? And Thomas, also from mighty England?"

Absolute horror gripped Julia, bringing on a buzzing in her ears as her vision darkened. She fought off the impulse to faint. That was the worst thing she could do.

"Give me some good news, Monsieur Routier," Julia said wearily. "Tell me at least DiPaglia is dead."

"He is alive and well, mademoiselle. I am sure he will appreciate your tender concern."

Monsieur Routier reached out to pull the upper half of the chadar away, revealing Julia's chestnut hair and fair skin. He looked her over, nodding to himself.

"Trés belle, mademoiselle," he said. "They did not tell me you were so lovely. Eh bien, better that I found out for myself. Life is full of happy little surprises, don't you think?"

"If you know who I am, then you know Ardeth Bey will kill anyone who lays a hand on me."

Monsieur Routier laughed. "Ardeth Bey? He does not know what day it is."

The confidence in his mocking laughter made Julia's blood run cold. "And just how would you know that?"

Monsieur Routier ignored the question. "Come along, ma fille. Le Capitaine will be delighted."

"The instant the Med-Jai see me, you're as good as dead."

"So they will not see you." Monsieur Routier let the chadar drop back down over her head and torso. "As dark as I am, everyone will think you are my wife. Trés convenable, non?"

"It is most inconvenient," Julia snapped.

Monsieur Routier pushed her ahead of him, away from the Med-Jai, away from the black Arabian, away from any hope of leaving Cairo as mistress of her own fate. God alone knew what the Captain and his amoral companions would do when they saw her again. They had somehow survived the bloodbath in the caves. They might very well blame Julia and the Med-Jai for the deaths of their mercenary comrades. With this unhappy reunion to deal with, how would Julia ever get to Ardeth Bey in time? If Anck-su-Namun smothered the Med-Jai with her darkness, the Light the Brotherhood was sworn to preserve could be eclipsed forever.

A ray of hope lightened Julia's despair. She now had an armed escort that would take her directly to wherever Ardeth Bey was being held. Perhaps this was what Ardeth meant by "the will of Allah." If Julia's dreams were more than just neurotic fantasies, she would find Ardeth Bey. And when she did, there wouldn't be enough left of Anck-su-Namun to ever trouble the Med-Jai again.

END


End file.
